


synesthesia

by squiirby



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: (sort of), F/M, Fluff, Gen, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn, Synesthesia, also this is largely just headcannoned stuff about joiners?, do people still play SWTOR? dont care, im so soft for him, like we never really...understand how their brains work, so i made some assumptions, the agent is chiss but honestly you can assume whatever you want, this is what happens when i get bored during quarantine, vector is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiirby/pseuds/squiirby
Summary: After leaving Alderaan to join Cipher Nine, Vector discovers things about himself, and the way he perceives the world, that he doesn't fully understand.Luckily, the agent is an eager listener.
Relationships: Vector Hyllus/Female Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	synesthesia

**Author's Note:**

> hello, welcome to "squiid writes SWTOR because she's still allowed to feel intense emotions from the year of our lord 2018 please do not judge her". this is based off of the neurological condition synesthesia (which if you are unaware of, please do some research, it's fascinating!), and my headcanon that Joiners perceive the world much differently than humans do (which is basically canon already, so). i do not have synesthesia myself, however, so consider this simply a fictional adaptation and is in no way realistically accurate.  
> thanks for reading, as always!

Vector has never paid attention to it before.

After Joining, things become irrelevant. Yes, he can taste color, and when he hears music he can feel the shape and flow of the sounds, he can feel every atom, see _everything._ But it was not something he regularly reflected on. It was just simply how it was.

Perhaps, he realized, it was something he took for granted. It was not a gift he had possessed before Joining- but now, every sense was heightened exponentially, every taste, every smell, every sound with more meaning than he could ever comprehend. It was everything, all at once. 

He _loved_ it.

Traveling with the agent proved to be the best test of the extent of his senses. With the familiarity of the Hive gone, he was tasting new things, taking in new experiences- everything they came across was new and interesting. And, luckily for him, the agent seemed to share his desire to learn more.

She first asked when he had mentioned the taste of her aura. He’d said she tasted like nectar and ice, and she was immediately intrigued, asking for further analysis. Vector hadn’t _meant_ to peer so closely into her aura, but he had, and suddenly he was wrapped up in the colors of her scent and the taste of her words on the air. 

Her voice was the color blue, bluer than her skin and as vibrant as the skies had been on Alderaan- he could listen to it for _hours,_ so soft and subtle, with the quietest lilt to it. When she spoke, he closed his eyes and watched cyan ribbons dance in the darkness, tracing patterns behind his eyelids that were ingrained in his head for hours afterwards. Hearing her voice was like staring into the oceans of Manaan. 

Her eyes, bright red and with a constant shimmer, tasted like something so sweet it was nearly intoxicating. Her gaze drew him hopelessly in every time, like a moth to flame, with the sweetness of honey and a slight hint of cinnamon. When she looked at him he could sense everything, taste everything, _feel_ everything, all at once. The Hive seemed to sing in his mind when she drew near.

The first time she’d held his hand he’d smelled the frost.

Sharp morning air and an icy breeze washed over him as her small hand enveloped his own. He could taste snow on his tongue, could hear a Song in the back of his head that was different than any he had ever heard. It was new. _Different._

He never wanted it to end.

He never wanted to let go of her hand.

Every experience was new, and strange, and different. He relished it. Exploring the universe by her side was something he never wanted to stop doing- eventually everything else began to fade. Every new experience with her by his side was like a high that he craved. Every new shade of color he saw was something wholly unique.

 _She_ was something wholly unique. When she spoke he savored her words, when they locked eyes he breathed in her scent. She never once questioned him. Never once considered him _strange._ When he told her how the golden shades on Voss sounded like a chorus of stringed instruments, she _listened,_ utterly enamored with his eloquent descriptions.

She, like him, viewed the world differently, too. She saw everything more vibrantly, more colorfully, picking up every minuscule shade and detail in the world around them. She would ask him to tell her about a color, or a sound, and he would oblige. It was a simple way of distraction during their particularly long planetside expeditions.

To the two of them, the galaxy was an experience. She had broken away from the dull grays and greens of Dromund Kaas and he had ventured out from the Hive, and together, everything was new and exciting. Together, _everything_ was beautiful.

Day by day, the more time that passed, the Song in his head grew louder. Her aura brightened, as she began to realize _herself,_ more than she’d ever expected. Vector could feel the changes in her- he watched her grow bolder, more defiant, more _unique._ She was casting away the chains that had once bound her so tightly to Intelligence. 

He had no qualms with it. She was happier the further they were from Imperial space, and he had a distinct feeling he knew why. Her newfound independence was not something that bothered him. He was beginning to feel it _himself._

Day by day, the voices of the Hive got quieter, more subtle. When he listened close they returned, sometimes in crashing waves of sounds and smells and tastes, but he often found himself quieter in his own head than he had ever been on Alderaan. With the agent, things felt...softer. Calmer. Easier to take in.

The distance did not worry him. He was _meant_ to be distant from the Hive. But his individuality was becoming... _much._ He kept catching himself referring to himself as “I” rather than “we”, though seldom as it was. And it almost always happened when he was around _her._

When she was near, the voices quieted. Instead of worrying about the Hive’s spontaneous silencing, he simply resigned to be near her, to take in every little thing about her. The freckles that traced star patterns across the bridge of her nose. The dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. The way the stars were reflected in a red glossy sheen in her eyes.

He was _enthralled_ by her.

Every new experience he had stumbled upon paled in comparison next to the Song that reverberated in his skull when they were together. Every color of nature seemed lackluster when he heard her sing for the first time, an explosion of color erupting behind his eyes and staining his vision for days to come. She seemed to be the center of it all, the thing his senses clung to and craved more of constantly.

He knew he needed to explain eventually. He needed to tell her how he felt, somehow, sometime. But words didn’t feel right. Words were difficult and clumsy and hard to phrase, so flat and uninspired compared to how he _really_ felt. 

So he decided to _show_ her.

It was a simple decision, really. He found no real difficulty in figuring out the best way to say something without words. They’d stolen away from the ship one night, and he’d taken her to the one place he’d known all too well. A tiny moon on the fringes of Wild Space, largely uninhabited except for a few long-abandoned mining colonies. The moon itself had proved too small to sustain a society, but it made an excellent hiding place for two wayward adventurers.

She was giggling and held onto him tightly as he guided her through the grassy fields of the planet, the night still and quiet. It was always night here, distinctly lacking a nearby sun or moon, but it didn’t stop the thin, blue-gray fields of grass from growing, peeking up through sparse gravel.

The two finally sat down and he reached out to her, slowly pulling down her hands from her face. Red eyes blinked open and he felt a familiar tinge on his tongue from the soft glow as he always did, and he watched as she looked at him for a moment, and then looked away, surveying her new surroundings.

A brilliant blanket of stars swept over the night sky, visible in every single direction, endless and so brilliant it lit up the surface of the moon all on it’s own. Every constellation was reflected in her gaze, her mouth dropping open and the night so quiet he could feel her heart rate increase, pure awe plain on her face. The night air tasted of mint and coffee to him, and clearly _looked_ like heaven to her.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

When she finally tore her eyes away, she looked back down to him. She knew exactly what he meant, now. No further elaboration required, as he’d intended. The sounds of the night sky meant as much to him as the colorful patterns of space meant to her. Each perceived in their own, strange ways.

No words needed.

The Song was still singing, and for a brief moment, she could hear it, too.


End file.
